


Playing with Fire

by veiledndarkness



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veiledndarkness/pseuds/veiledndarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She hates the women he brings home for having what she can't. Written for the twd_kinkmeme on Livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing with Fire

She’s spent the better part of her life trying to keep up with her brother and that’s no easy task. 

Growing up with someone like Merle was daunting at best and she kind of hates him but she loves him nonetheless. He’s rough and rude and nasty, but she still wants him and there’s a part of herself that hates how _much_ she wants him. 

He treats her like a little brother. Except…except when she sees him watching her. 

There’s times when she can see him looking at her in ways he shouldn’t be and it sends _such_ a thrill through her. She feels vaguely guilty, like maybe she wouldn’t feel that way about her big brother if she’d had a mother to teach her how to be a normal girl, or that maybe it’s her fault that he stares like he does. 

He eyes her and she likes it, she likes the way he stares.

Maybe he’s too easy with his touches, maybe he holds her too close and when they sleep outside during their hunts, he keeps one big arm around her waist, holding her in tight and when her heart pounds the whole time he never says anything about it. 

She knows she’s nothing like the women he brings home from time to time. She only knows that she hates them for touching him, for letting him use them and she’ll spend hours brooding in silence until the bitches leave and Merle is hers again. 

It eats away at her and she can hardly breathe when she starts thinking about everything she wants, everything she needs and how much she hates how she feels. It isn’t right but she doesn’t give a shit. She wants him despite his flaws, despite his attitude. 

She thinks maybe, just maybe he wants her as bad and maybe that’s why the girls he brings home piss her off more. She knows he cares, knows that he loves her in his own rough way, so it only rubs salt in that never ending fucking aching wound when he’s screwing some woman on the couch while she scowls at the ceiling in her cramped bedroom. 

It should be her and it just fuels her all the more until one day, a few months shy of her seventeenth birthday, she sits down on his lap once he’s had enough liquor to be sure that he won’t smack her upside the head for being forward like that. 

He stares at her and she tries to smile seductively at him, to entice him. He rests one big hand on her knee, and she panics a little, afraid he’s going to shove her off. His bottle of whiskey is hanging from his other hand and all she can smell is the familiar scent of Merle and the all too familiar booze he drinks religiously. 

He doesn’t push her off though. No, he lifts his hand from her knee and he’s rubbing two fingers down her cheek, wiping away a light smear of dirt that she’d forgotten about yet again. Inwardly she cringes. Its times like this, those little reminders that she doesn’t know shit about being a girl, not when she’s been raised like she was a scrappy little boy.

She forces a smile again, tries to smile like she sees the women in Merle’s magazines do, pout all sexy like and she only feels stupid when he raises an eyebrow at her. He’s moving his fingers down her cheek, sliding over her neck and she can’t help but move into the touch, shivering a little at the feel of his calloused fingers. 

“There a reason why yer sittin’ on me?” Merle asks, more amused than anything else. 

She shakes her head mutely. There’s no good reason she can think of besides the truth and what if he says no? She leans back, her back pressed to Merle’s chest, to the warm expanse of skin that’s revealed by his open vest and if she’s holding her breath, it’s not her fault. 

Merle’s hand settles on her shoulder, rubbing a lazy circle over her skin, his thumb brushing under the edges of her worn tank top. She shivers again, goosebumps racing down her body. 

“Cat gotcha tongue, girl?”

“No,” she mumbles and tucks her head under his chin, feeling his heart beating through his chest against her back. She licks her lips and tries to think of something to say, her hips squirming back and forth. She’s nervous, more than nervous but she can feel it, that slowly growing hardness under her backside and it bolsters her confidence. 

“Must be some reason why yer rubbin’ up on me like this,” he whispers in her ear, his lips brushing over the lobe. 

She stares into the fire pit that Merle’s had going for a few hours. There’s nothing but a blanket of stars above them and the trailer is a dark shadow behind their campfire. There’s nobody around and the flames are dancing at her feet, gleaming and hypnotic. 

Merle slides his hand down from her shoulder, slinking around her waist to hold her in tight. “Asked you a question an’ ya best answer me,” he warns and she can’t hold back the tiny gasp that squeaks out of her when his arm tightens more. 

“I…” she licks her lips. “Jus’ wanted to, s’all.”

“Uh huh,” he croons in her ear, “Yer playin’ with fire, little girl.”

A blush spreads over her face and her cheeks burn. “Ain’t so little anymore,” she says carefully, letting one hand grip the side of Merle’s thigh. “Not that you been noticin’.”

“That so?” Merle laughs a bit an’ there’s a brush of his lips over her neck and now, now her skin’s tingling all over. 

“Uh huh,” she mutters and squirms again and yeah, it’s there for sure now, harder, pressing against her. Her mouth is dry but her heart’s pounding a mile a minute. “Too busy with those skanks from town ta pay attention anymore.”

His chuckle is breathy and his lips are lingering on the nape of her neck, his face buried in the hair that nearly brushes her shoulders. She tips her head forward, giving him room, her legs trembling when she feels him nosing over her neck, breathing her in. 

“Jealous?” he asks and there’s enough smugness in his voice to make her curl her hands into fists at her sides. 

“No.”

Merle snorts softly and his bottle of whiskey slips down to the ground, freeing his other hand. He’s got one hand around her waist; the other is sliding one strap of her tank top down, dragging over slowly over her arm. “Liar,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing down over the skin exposed, working the straps down on both sides. 

She’s nearly forgotten how to breathe and her heartbeat is pounding in her ears, roaring over the slow, raspy voice of her brother. She can feel his hand moving under the material of her tank, down to her chest and she feels her breath catch in her throat when his fingers cup her left breast. 

She holds perfectly still, staring into the fire as the pad of his thumb rubs a teasingly slow circle over her nipple. She can’t move, can’t breathe and all she can think of is how hard Merle is under her backside. 

“This what ya want?” he croons to her, his thumb and forefinger tugging just a little, enough to send a bolt of lust spiralling right through her. “Been touchin’ yerself, thinkin’ ‘bout this?”

Her face burns with shame and desire. She has, far too many times to count. “N-No…”

“Always were a shitty liar,” he chuckles and then her top is down, the material draped around her hips, naked from the waist up. “Lie back now, tell me whatchu been thinkin’, huh girl?”

She does as he says because she always has, and she lays back against his chest again, her nipples hard, her lips parted as she breathes. Merle’s hands roam over her stomach and chest, cupping and stroking and tugging until her hips are wriggling about, until she’s panting and gripping his thighs for balance.

Her skin is on fire now, her small breasts trapped in Merle’s knowing fingers. She presses her thighs in tight and tries to ignore how wet her skin is between her legs. “God,” she chokes, gasping as he tugs on her nipples, rubbing them harder than before. 

Merle licks a stripe along her neck, nosing over the somewhat tangled strands. “Know what ya want, I know, don’tchu worry, little sister,” he says as he lets go of one breast long enough to reach for the button on her shorts. 

She bites at her bottom lip, struggling not to whine when he moves his hand, only to suck in a shaky breath at the feel of air on her damp thighs, at the realization that Merle’s tugged her shorts down to her ankles. She can only stare at his hand as he dips into her panties, the fabric strained by the size of his fingers. 

“Ahh, there we go,” he says and it’s through a haze of dizziness that she hears the pleasure in his voice when his fingers touch her slick skin. 

Her mouth hangs open and she pants unabashedly as he strokes her, one long finger parting her, rubbing just where she needs it most, rubbing in that slow, lazy way of his until she thinks she might scream. 

She’s moaning, rocking back and forth on him, her hands coming up to hold his shoulders. She can still feel Merle’s cock, hard and long and trapped in his pants under her and she chokes on a sob at the idea of riding it. 

Merle laughs a little, like he knows what she’s thinking, and brings one hand back up to her right breast. He’s rubbing over her breast again, toying with her expertly, his finger still rubbing faster, then slower, then faster again, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. 

“M-Merle,” she whimpers as her body stiffens and he pinches her nipple gently right as he pushes his finger inside her and she’s coming with a broken sob, rocking back and forth on him as she shudders, coming hard onto his fingers. 

“Easy girl,” he whispers in her ear, still stroking her inside her soaked panties, “Easy now, s’alright.”

She turns her head to the side, burying her face in Merle’s neck, shaking faintly. She licks her lips and all she can smell is Merle, all she can feel is his solid warmth and the tiny bursts of pleasure still radiating from her body. She closes her eyes and clings to him tighter, pleased.


End file.
